Dear Mickey-Bring the boys back home
by Vintage Lover Who
Summary: Ian's gone with the draft, fighting a war where none of the heads of each side care for what happens to their soldiers. Mickey's back at home, coping with his own internal hell. This is the correspondence held between the two of them.
1. Chapter 1: Preview

**A/N: So,** **here's the Shameless fic I promised**_. This is nothing but a preview, so feedback would be much appreciated to know if I should continue on with this or not; I must say for me it's reeeeeally hard to get into Ian's mind and I want to make sure I'm on the right path. Opinions are welcome, so bring it on! I know it's hard to give a verdict with such a short chapter but I hope you can tell me if you like the idea or not. _

_Cheers!_

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_Ian's first letter to Mickey, June 25__th__._

Afghanistan is freaking hot. There's nothing but waving heat and fractured houses around us. The air feels damp against my skin and at night, the cold gets so intense it chills me down to the bone.

It feels weird to be away from home, from Chicago, from the place we thought we'd never leave. Remember those days when we talked about everything that was shitty about our neighbourhood? Well now all that seems distant and warm, comfortable. You must be laughing by now, wondering how much sand in my brain it takes to make me say that the dump streets of Chicago are the best thing in the world but you'd have to be here to understand. It's been just a week since my arrival and I already miss everything: the familiar cold, the everyday streets, the noise of the freezer of the Kash 'n' Grab, the wind…may I say I miss you? Yes, I'm gonna say it, because I'm too far away for you to rip my tongue out of my head, thought it would be fun to see you try…

Everybody else seems quite calm, I'm even wondering if I'm not taking this too seriously, because I've heard real war is still far away from here. Still, I feel a bit paranoid; after all, training is nothing like this. Operations will start in a few days, though we still don't know the exact date, for security and stuff, you know how it is. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know how everything was going, because to be honest, you were the first person that crossed my mind when I thought on writing home; hopefully you won't think this is too "faggy", 'cause soldiers write home, you kno'.

How's everything back home? I'd feel less of an idiot if you wrote back. Don't have too much fun without me.

_Ian Gallagher_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Ok, another letter to extend your range of opinion. **_I'll try to keep on updating regularly. Enjoy!_

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_Mickey's first response, June 28__th__._

Well, well, who would've thought that the mighty Firecrotch would be homesick? Back here things are as shitty as always; my father's in jail, Mandy's been frequenting your family's house more than usual and it's been raining for days. Fucking summer's worth nothing in Chicago, I'm telling ya.

You say soldiers write home, don't you? Well you wouldn't be doing so if you had FUCKING STAYED. Anyway, you've always been a dick-head, who am I to change that? I can't believe anyone could miss this shit-hole; at least I wouldn't if I could get away from here. I'd go far away, not to New York, is still too close; somewhere else where I didn't have to put up with this hell anymore. Of course Afghanistan is way beyond my reach, and definitely not one of my options, you know I can't really stand heat, but maybe one of this days I could find a nice place that gathers all the features I'm looking for, with a nice weather, in a nice neighbourhood…what am I saying? I'm starting to sound like you! Damn, Gallagher! You really know how to upset me.

By the way, I must admit your presence is missed back here…and so is your dick. So, try to keep in touch and get back home in one piece, would ya? Have fun playing in the sand, Gallagher.

_Mickey M._


	3. Chapter 3

_Ian's journal entry. July __4__th__._

They attacked us. They waited for this specific day to attack. Quite dramatic, uh? I've never been much of an enthusiast of any kind of celebration, and here, heat is making it harder for me to remember how I used to celebrate this date with my family...perhaps Lip would take out cold beers, Fiona would take out the folding chairs and we'd go to the backyard to see the pyrotechnics of the neighbours...the memory is too fuzzy.

The attack didn't occur in the main camp, it's too well defended for them to even get close to it, but small posts were severely attacked. Alarms sounded at our headquarters and we got out of bed in time for the "fireworks". One of our nearest posts had been blown up; I could see the flames rising at a reasonable distance. How many guys could've been there, dozens perhaps? Dozens of guys for whom there will be no more Fourth of Julys…or anything else. Dark clouds of smoke rose and faded in the black night sky as we all stood watching. One of the boys asked if we had to go check on them but one of the sergeants stated it was too dangerous and that it was the exact reaction they were expecting from us, the trap they wanted us to fall in. "Besides, those boys must be already dead", he concluded. The sergeant quickly lost interest in the sight in front of us; most of the boys followed him. I stayed there, watching flames consume the place.

"You think they are all dead?" asked the boy next to me. I felt this sudden impulse to take him by the arms and shake him until his fucking neurons made synapsis. But I just nodded.

"If they didn't die from the explosion, carbon dioxide would do the trick".

"What a horrible way to die".

That was the last thing I heard before ending up completely alone on the roof of the base.

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_Ian's letter to Mickey, July __6__th__._

Dear Mickey:

Happy Fourth of July! Sorry I couldn't make it in time, we had a lot of things to do in the past few days and I couldn't send this until now and it'll arrive even later than my fucking schedule allowed me to. Anyway, how did everything go back there? You had fun, pyrotechnics, anything? We had fireworks of our own but apparently not everyone had as much fun as they should. Though there's nothing to worry about, if you were even wondering; I've been here for almost two weeks and I hadn't got to see any action which actually surprised me. Everyone talked about how weird things were back here, how hard they could get and yet I'm still in one piece, no serious operations yet.

I've been training of course, training never stops as well as cleaning but fortunately the discipline is a little bit more relaxed than back home. It's natural I guess, having so many things to watch your back for, the least thing you care about is somebody else…still, we're fine, the boys are excited and me? Well I'm just waiting for time to pass as quickly as possible so I can get back. Really, you can't imagine how much I miss Chicago…

_Ian Gallagher_


	4. Chapter 4

_Mickey's response, July 10__th__._

Hey Gallagher, is good to know you survived the Fourth of July. Mandy almost gets our house burnt down with the illegal fireworks she got. Some fucking new neighbours even called the police and everything; they ended up in my house and when they realised what it was all about, they just told us to cut the crap and took one of the boxes; they obviously couldn't do more since the WHOLE fucking neighbourhood was doing exactly the same thing! Those guys don't seem to know how things are supposed to be down here; if they don't like it, they can move to the fucking suburbs, I'm sure that's the only place those douchebags would get enough peace. The worst thing is that the cop confiscated our box just because he knew who I was! If not I'm sure he would've let it pass. Still, I suppose I could say I had fun.

You seem to be having a pretty nice time on your own. Are marine cocks that impressive? Anyway, hope you don't put yourself in danger just to try and be the hero, 'cause ma were you that would be the last thing I would do. Keep it up so you get a cool rank and come back home as a lieutenant or something like that.

Oh, and by the way, please quit the "dear Mickey" shit out.

_Mickey_

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**A/N: Mickey and his oh-so-polite lexicon. **_Anyway, enjoy and review, thank you very much!_


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